


I show you my home (And my loves, my life)

by CheetahLeopard2



Series: White Collar/Batman fics [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, White Collar (TV 2009), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Other, Polyamory, Soulmates, Tim Drake is Neal Caffrey, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheetahLeopard2/pseuds/CheetahLeopard2
Summary: idea credit to damdemiwitch, whom this is gifted to:"One where they have a case in Gotham and (by the way, this one is Tim=Neal) they start driving down Crime Alley, where the FBI set them up with a house and Neal/Tim is like "???? No????? This is called CRIME ALLEY for a reason???? You are going to get killed here??? Here, I have a penthouse not far from here, but still out of Crime Alley""
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent/Jason Todd
Series: White Collar/Batman fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025266
Comments: 26
Kudos: 202





	I show you my home (And my loves, my life)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [damdemiwitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/damdemiwitch/gifts).



> Enjoy! Reminder there's a discord! https://discord.gg/ybDRdbpjRv

They’ve barely walked into the office when Peter is summoned by Hughes.

“Two fingers,” Neal leans over to whisper to Diana, “Someone’s in trouble.”

Diana looks over at his playful gaze with a serious one, almost pitying. It sets Neal immediately on edge, “What’s wrong?”

Diana shakes her head, “I can’t tell you,” she hesitates as she stands, angled away, before shaking her head and continuing to the coffee machine.

Neal watches her with cold trepidation coiling in his chest, wavering before turning mechanically to sit in his desk.

Even as everything about this life has foundation in lies, he’s rather enjoying being settled here.

He ignores his soulbonds pulsing vague concern at him, sending a simple, ‘ _I’m fine, might be something at work,_ ’ and receiving understanding in return.

“We’re going to Gotham,” is the first thing out of Peter’s mouth when he walks up, said haltingly and almost disbelieving.

Neal’s breath stutters nearly imperceptibly, before he chuckles, “Good one Peter,” he turns back to his files. When there’s just silence in response, he turns his head back to Peter, who’s looking at him stonily.

Neal quickly puts up metal shields around his bonds, “When?”

“Next week.”

\----

Monday finds them stepping off a plane in New Jersey, which Neal would rather ignore the entire embarrassing process of, and into a taxi that’ll take them to the Gotham Police Department where they’ll meet the officers they’ll be working with.

Neal hasn’t told his soulmates he’s back in Gotham yet- he’ll have hard enough time keeping his cover without them dropping in on him and the case they’re supposed to be working. He’s just hoping Babs and/or Dick haven’t blabbed- Babs because she’s been overseeing this case and knows all Tim’s assignments, and Dick because he works at the GPD.

\----

“This is where the bureau put us up,” Peter says, handing Neal a slip of paper, “For dirt cheap, apparently.”

Neal frowns down at the address, “Yeah, because it’s in _Crime Alley_.” He frowns at the paper for a bit longer, debating with himself, before he rips it up before Peter’s disbelieving eyes.

“Neal! That’s the only copy I had of that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Neal says, “You wouldn’t survive Crime Alley.”

There’s something about the way he says it that stops Peter in his tracks, his eyes cold and serious, lips set in a hard line and every line of his body screaming a defense.

He looks like a different person, in that moment.

“I have a place in the we can stay, close enough to the station for an easy commute but far enough to be safer.” the ‘ _for you_ ’ isn’t voiced, but Peter feels it all the same, and he can’t help but wonder what it is that gives Neal the confidence to believe he’d make it out of Crime Alley better off than the trained FBI agent.

Neal turns away as soon as Peter nods, seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil. Peter watches his back, the way he glances up to the sky before hailing a cab, and wonders.

\----

“When you said you have a place,” Peter says bemusedly, “I can’t say I was expecting this.”

 _This_ being a 2-bedroom 2-bathroom apartment that, while sparsely decorated, is cozy. The bedrooms are in a hallway off to the side, hidden from view of the kitchen and living area.

The living area has a well-worn couch with a huge knit blanket draped over the back pushed against one wall, a small TV against the other, and a locked wooden trunk doubling as a coffee table. The kitchen is stocked with mostly canned foods and k-cups for the coffee maker.

The master bedroom has a king bed with a fluffy comforter and an en suit bathroom, as well as a hidden compartment in the closet that Neal won’t let Peter find out about.

The smaller bedroom has a full bed with a quilt, and the adjoining bathroom has doors to both that bedroom and the living room.

It’s one of three safehouses that Bruce has approved Kon staying in when he’s in Gotham- though Bruce doesn’t know the locations, only that there are three.

Neal chuckles, playful smile in place, “Oh? Better or worse?”

“Somehow, both,” Peter responds, “it’s less flashy than I thought you’d settle for, but in better shape than I’d expect for a place you haven’t been to in a year.”

“Just wait ‘til you try the mattress,” Neal laughs. Good mattresses were one thing Jason’d insisted on for every safehouse- an essential for the vigilante lifestyle.

After a dinner of takeout Peter calls the Marshals to give them the address so they can set up the perimeter, and so ends the day.

\----

It’s around 2am when Jason ends patrol for the day, reaching through his bonds as he usually does at the end of the night. A silent reassurance that another day’s passed and his soulmates are alive.

Kon’s headed his way, having been with Black Bat on patrol since he’s in Gotham for the week. Tim’s asleep, for once, and- Jason frowns, perplexed. Tim’s in one of their safehouses.

‘ _Hey babycakes_ ,’ he reaches out to Kon.

‘ _Yeah, sugarlips? I’ll be there in a second._ ’ Kon replies, just before he appears to Jason’s right.

 _Fuckin’ superspeed_. “Red’s in Gotham,” Jason says, wrapping his arm around Kon’s waist and pulling him closer as Kon reaches out himself.

“Think something’s wrong?” Kon asks, leaning into Jason’s side as they look out over the night skyline.

“Nah,”Jason answers after a moment of contemplation, “’S probably why he’s been closin’ himself off so often this week.”

Kon hums, “So we’re going to surprise him?”

“Tha’s the idea,” Jason smirks, as Kon wraps his arms around his chest, under his arms, and takes off.

They find Tim asleep in the master bedroom of safehouse #2, and he doesn’t stir as they disable security and store their uniforms in the secret compartment.

They fall into bed with Tim, a heap of twined legs and bare chests pressed together, breathes rumbling through each other.

\----

Peter wakes up with the bleary confusion that comes with sleeping in an unfamiliar place, laying in bed for a bit while he gets his bearings before going through his morning routine.

The smell of bacon wafts through the air, as well as an unfamiliar voice singing along to the radio from the direction of the kitchen.

Peter’s immediately set on guard, and he takes full advantage of the bedrooms being out of sight of the kitchen to sneak to the master bedroom, opening the door and closing it silently.

“Neal,” he says as he turns around, only to stop in his tracks as he stares down the barrel of a gun.

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” the man holding the gun growls from his position, laying on the bed with his other arm trapped underneath Neal, who’s still sleeping soundly, face pressed to the man’s bare chest. The man’s covered in scars- puckers of bullet wounds and thick lines of knife wounds, and a large, precise ‘Y’ carved from his chest down his torso.

There’s danger in his eyes.

“Peter Burke,” Peter says, eyes narrowing, “What are you doing with my CI?”

The door opens behind Peter, and though he doesn’t dare turn around he can tell from the shadow spilling in from the hallway that the other intruder is large as well, though probably unarmed.

“Jay,” the person behind him says, “Neal Caffrey.”

“Oh,” the man on the bed- Jay- says, eyes going wide as he lowers the gun, “Oh, _shit_.”

Neal groans at that moment, pressing his head harder against Jay’s chest, “Shhh, ‘s’okay,” he murmurs, and Jason winces, “no panicking.” Peter stutters. Thinks, putting pieces together frantically-

“You’re not gonna be sayin’ that when ya open your eyes, darlin’,” Jay says with a nervous chuckle.

“Are you _soulmates_?” Peter blurts, and Neal’s eyes shoot open, before he rolls onto his back next to Jay to press his palms to his eyes.

“Fuck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please comment!


End file.
